


Gunpowder and Sweat and Black Coffee

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [33]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Noir, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 00:24:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: The first stop they make is in Vegas. Not because either of them wants to lose money or see Frank Sinatra, but because Bucky can’t find his wallet.





	Gunpowder and Sweat and Black Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 'my datemate and i were going on a roadtrip but we broke up and i know we don’t really know each other but do you wanna drive across the country with me this summer’ au. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

The first stop they make is in Vegas. Not because either of them wants to lose money or see Frank Sinatra, but because Bucky can’t find his wallet.

“I swear I had it,” he says, tearing like mad through the glove box, under his seat, through his pockets. “It was right here, Steve. I could’ve sworn that I--”

So Steve pulls up at a gas station just off the Vegas exit and they both bail out of the car, turn on the overhead light and start rooting around in the dark. 

“It’s ok if you don’t have it,” Steve says, “I mean, if you left it. We can go back and get it. It’s just a few hours back the other way.”

He doesn’t know Bucky that well but the guy’s distress is apparent and while being upset is understandable, it looks like Barnes is two shakes from losing it. He’s trembling and his face is ghost white under the gas station lights and his hands are shaking so bad he can barely unzip his duffel. 

It cracks open something in Steve, pushes away some of the formality he’s worn all day like a shield. This is a job for him, a cross-country delivery, LA to New York in ten days, but to Bucky, hell, this amounts to a transformation: closing off one chapter of his life and trusting that the next one will be better. Of course it will be. He’s got one of America’s richest men waiting for him, busy building an empire on the opposite coast, ready and willing and antsy to have Bucky back at his side. Except Barnes refuses to fly. Or take a train. And Mr. Stark doesn’t trust him to drive himself across country, and now, Steve’s starting to understand why.

“Hey,” he says. “Bucky, hey, hey.”

He catches Bucky’s wrist and holds it, both their hands resting on top of his duffel, rough khaki, the kind that still smells like the war; gunpowder and sweat and black coffee.

Barnes’ head snaps up and he stares at Steve, stares like he’s looking straight down a scope. The overhead light’s falling over his face like a cape and it’s hard to read his expression: angry? Upset? Terrified? Some of all three, maybe.

Bucky had a bad war. Steve knew that without being told, would’ve known it even if Stark hadn’t handed over his file. One look at the kid and you could see it, the scars the Pacific had carved. Some of the guys Steve knew who’d been POWs looked haunted, like they’d been possessed by a devil they couldn’t quite shake. But a few others, like Bucky, seemed hollowed out--not by fury, necessarily, or fear, but by grief. There was so much sadness in Barnes; it radiated from him, like a kerosene heater in winter. The few times before that Steve had seen him without Stark, the effect was even more acute: he looked like he was about to fold in on himself, a paper doll left out in the rain. Stark bucked the kid up, though, brought some color to his cheeks, the occasional smile. It was clear how much Tony adored him, how keen he was to keep Bucky safe, and the way Barnes leaned into him, tipped their shoulders together and made a point of standing too close, his affection for Stark was evident, too.

He’d seen them kissing once, had walked into his office while Peggy was at lunch and there they were, canoodling, Bucky pressed to the edge of her desk, Stark’s hands in his hair, Barnes’ arms wound around Tony’s back.

“Fellas,” he’d said then, “next time you wanna do that, use the wall or something, huh? Miss Carter’d kill me if you so much as wrinkled anything. She’s very particular about her paperwork.”


End file.
